


Kissing Closet

by Silvermoonphantom (Daitoshi)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Campaign Podcast
Genre: Angst and Feels, Asexual Character, Dumpster bondage, Geelentine, Kissing, M/M, no actual dumpsters involved, thats just the podcast nickname for smutty stuff don’t worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-07-12 03:03:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15986252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daitoshi/pseuds/Silvermoonphantom
Summary: One stupid crush + One voyeur door =  struggling to confess





	1. Chapter 1

“It’s like a fairy tale.” Leenik’s whisper was awed and excited as his fingers trailed over the arch’s inscription, leaving lines cut through thick dust. He heard Tryst mutter something behind him, and then scrambled away from the first bright blast that shot past his shoulder. 

“You could have hit me!” Leenik scolded. 

Tryst just gestured with his heavy blaster for his teammate to get out of the way before blasting the door again with several rapid shots, frowning at the ineffective scorch marks on stone. 

“Well, that didn’t work.”

“Well  _ duh _ \- didn’t you re- oh, nevermind.”

“What?”

“Nothing, I was just saying it figures that didn’t work, because the door says it only opens for  _ true love’s kiss.” _

Tryst started fishing around in his pockets, muttering “-could have sworn I put a grenade in here somewhere”

“Didn’t you hear me? The door only opens with a- Wait, you carry grenades in your pocket?”

“Where else would I keep them, up my ass? Not using that space wallet, thanks. You probably want to step away.” 

Leenik huffed, pacing to the back of the narrow room to give the explosive some room to work. 

“I’m just saying, if the door says it’ll open to a kiss, that’s not going to work.”

Tryst knelt down to tuck several small grenades in the corners of the arch, sticking one right in the middle and flicking its trigger. 

“You never know. It looks like it’s just rock. I refuse to believe someone messed with the Force to make a voyer door in the middle of a creepy temple.”

“Maybe it was a love temple?”

Tryst rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he sidled up next to Leenik to wait for the explosion. 

“Everything’s a love temple to you, Leenik. What does it make this room, then? The 7 minutes in heaven closet? Kinda sad they had to enforce one if it was a love temple.”

Leenik swiveled his antennae back, wincing at the loud crack of grenades in such a small space. Smoke and dust obscured the door, and Leenik shook his head, trying to clear the faint ringing. 

“Orgy closet, maybe?”

“Nah, too small, and there’s no shelves.”

“You can have a orgy without shelves.”

Tryst gave him a pitying look, sighing and shaking his head as he walked through the settling dust to check his work. 

“You don’t want to be mid-orgy and realize someone broke the lube bottle. No one wants floor lube. That’s why we have shelves. Also why my kimonos have pockets. Kriff, nothing.” 

Tryst kicked the scorched door, stalking back around the room.

“Those were my last grenades, too. Krak.”

Leenik eyed the inscription again, giving the otherwise unmarked room a cursory look-round once more. 

_ We could try to kiss _ entered his thoughts, and he pushed that image away barely fast enough to avoid blushing. That wasn’t… that wasn’t true love. Not like the door meant, probably. Just a stupid crush. Friend-crush. Like a squish except he maybe wanted to kiss his face sometimes. Tryst was a good kisser, that’s all, it wasn’t even a crush. 

So there. 

Leenik tried his hand at investigating the doorframe again, suctioning fingertips prying at every sliver of a crease in case a hidden panel lurked somewhere in the stonework walls. Stifled a few shallow coughs into his sleeve, ancient dust irritating his throat. 

“Too bad Tony’s not here. I bet his love is true.”

“I don’t want to see that!” Tryst called from across the room, picking at a spot with his utility knife. 

“Tony kisses me all the time!”

“Yeah, with his  _ tongue _ . I don’t want to see you kiss him  _ back _ .” 

“Tony’s my son. Don’t make it weird, of course I love him, and he loves me.” Leenik primly ignored Tryst’s exaggerated shudder, crouching down to brush sand away from the door’s base and dig for pressure tiles or something. 

“Are you finding anything over there?” Leenik didn’t answer for a moment, frowning as his fingers only uncovered more sand. 

“I’m just finding more rock. I can’t find any evidence that this room has electronics.” 

“Well it has to have wires. How else would it stay locked?”

“I dunno, weight? A latch? But then how would we get out? How would the door know if we kissed?” Leenik forced himself not to give the furtive glance he felt itching at his eyeballs. Forced himself to keep looking at the edges of the door. 

“There probably used to be a passive-aggressive concierge spying on the room to keep on eye on weirdos trying to bone, but now he’s dead and we’re stuck in here forever.” 

“So, what, you’re giving up?”

“I never said that.” 

“Like I said, the door says we should kiss, so-”

“Oh, the  _ door _ says. You sure you’re not making that up because you want to kiss me?”

“What? No! I mean-” Leenik stumbled over his words, torn between the answer expected of him, and the little voice of truth whispering in the back of his head. He must have taken too long to try to rephrase, because Tryst’s grin was creeping wider. 

“I think you just want to kiss me.”

“No, I don’t.” That was too fast, and they both knew it. Tryst stepped closer in a movement too smooth for Leenik’s suddenly racing pulse. There was plenty of time to step back. To look away. 

“I am a good kisser.”    
“No you’re not.” Leenik flattened his antennae backward, trying desperately to keep his expression smooth. 

“No? So, I guess you’ll be mad if I go ahead and…-” 

Leenik held his breath, muscles frozen as Tryst stepped into his space, gold eyes glittering in the dim light cast by their lamp.    
A moment stretched onward, heartbeats too loud, breath too shallow, eyes even wider as Tryst leaned down, tilting his head just a hair until their lips pressed together. 

_ Oh _ . 

He couldn’t even close his eyes when Tryst did, staring at the man’s eyelashes in shock - blurry sweeps of blonde, too close to focus on. Only a second later, the kiss ended, both of them looking toward a very faint blue light glowing from the doorframe’s words. As they watched, the light bled out in quick strokes. 

“Maybe- maybe the door needs to be more convinced?” Leenik tried not to sound breathless, but he could already feel the ruddy blush heating his cheeks, crawling all the way up to the tips of his antennae. Tryst narrowed his eyes at the door, grip on Leenik’s shoulders tightening just briefely.

“Door’s a pervert.” 

“Takes one to kno-mmh!” Leenik barely had time to take a breath before Tryst’s lips were on his again, head being pulled back by a firm draw on his wig. Heat rushed across his skin, eyes closing and knees weakening as it felt like his brain just  _ melted _ . Like everything relaxed all at once, and all he could do was respond to the warm body pressing against chest, thighs. His back met stone, his fingers reflexively clenching into the leather of Tryst’s beat-up duster.

Force, his heart was pounding.

Their kiss muffled the tiny whimper he felt crawl out of his throat when a warm thumb stroked over the side of his neck, dry palm sliding up to cup his cheek. 

His lungs were screaming for air. 

Leenik broke the kiss, inhaling a shuddering gasp, eyes dazed and focused somewhere high on the wall across from them. Tryst hummed something low in his throat, leaning closer instead of backing away. Leenik’s breath hitched when warm lips kissed gently on the curve of his jaw, moving to the side of his throat when he automatically tilted his head up. 

Tryst’s thumb rubbed again over his cheek, a small gesture of encouragement. 

He sagged more heavily against the wall behind him, leaning his head into the warm palm, hardly cognizant of the man’s other hand sliding comfortingly up over his rib cage, back down to cup his lower back and draw them closer together. 

“Tryst, I-” He started, but then lips were on his again, and his eyes were closed, and he was kissing back, every fibre of him focused down and forward just  _ soaking in _ the moment until all at once he was tripping into empty air, the living support abruptly gone with Tryst’s triumphant cry.

“It worked!” 

The man cackled, leaping for the door and darting out the blue-lit door frame before Leenik even had the chance to process what had happened. 

A breathless heartbeat later, Tryst popped his head back in, keeping his arm out to block the door from closing. 

“C’mon dude, you’re going to get stuck in the voyeur room again. Let’s get back to the ship before Tamlin finds my secret stache of ice cream. I don’t trust Bacta to  _ not _ tell him.”

He obligingly waited for Leenik to straighten his wig, tug his shirt back into order, and slink out the room before letting it close. 

“You know,” he continued, “For all Bacta insists he’s full of discipline and good decisions, he’d probably stick his hand in a blender if Tamlin asked with big enough puppy eyes.” 

Leenik walked blankly a step behind, watching the back of that blonde head, heart still racing, throat tingling with the echo of a hot breath over it. Kriff, his hands were trembling. 

“Leenik?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Probably, that, ha, that was some kiss, huh.” 

“I guess so. It worked on the door, anyway.” Leenik’s barked laugh edged into hysteric before he cut himself off to take a steadying breath when Tryst give him an odd look. 

“Right, right. Kissing door. That’s all, that’s- Yeah, okay. Just to get out, that’s cool, whatever, not like it was true love or anything!” 

“...Leenik, are you alright?” 

“What? Of course! Of course I’m fine! Toootally cool. Just a totally normal platonic kiss to fool a crazy door! I mean, look at the time! We better head back before they burn down the ship! HAhaha-” Leenik jogged past the puzzled human, heart twisting something cold and sharp and heavy weighing in his chest, his throat. The temple was a fairly simple layout - he remembered the passages they took to get there, and he found himself in open air quickly. 

It gave him just enough time to take a few deep breaths and force back the awful feeling crawling spiderlike across the back of his brain. Anger. Despair, no, they were just friends. He didn’t have any right to feel those things. 

It was just survival. 

Just a kiss


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Bacta allowed Tamlin to explore outside the ship with them, assured by the previous day’s exploration that the temple was safe enough.  
  
The crew, minus Leenik and Nemo, headed out to search the temple for supplies and artifacts to loot- always on the lookout for easy ways to gather credits. Leenik stayed behind to do minor maintenance on the Mynock, comforted by the half-mumbling background noise Nemo made when he was writing something. They passed the morning in quiet company, only speaking when Leenik needed a tool passed to him, or when he got up to make tea and think through an engineering problem. It was in the middle of that break when Leenik finally blurted;  
  
“Do you believe in True Love?”  
  
Nemo looked up from his holopad, teacup half-raised to his lips. He took a slow sip, considering the sudden question.  
  
“I think a lot of kinds of loves exist.”  
  
“That’s seriously so unhelpful. You know what I mean. True love. Soul mates. Like _Love on an alien world_. Do you think it’s real in real life? Not just in books?”  
  
Nemo took another small sip.  
  
“What context is this question coming from?”  
  
“Ugh, it’s not complicated. Yes or no. Do you think True Love is real?” Leenik caught himself tapping the finger on his artificial hand, stilling it to frown severely at his favorite author. “You write a lot about love, but a ton of your books have sad endings, and it’d make me feel a lot better if you’d just answer the question.”  
  
Nemo tilted his head, lowering his teacup.  
  
“Is this about Tryst?”  
  
“What! No! Of course not, it’s a simple question! Can’t a guy have one of those, jeeze.”  
  
“Leenik, your crush is really obvious, and if you want to ask relationship advice, I need you to be straightforward. Now-“ Nemo kept talking over Leenik’s frustrated groan, watching with a mild expression as the other Rhoadian thunked his forehead down onto the ship’s diner-style table. Nemo carefully pulled both cups of tea away before any of Leenik’s wig curls could get inn it.  
  
“Do I think you’re in Love, capital-L with Tryst? I don’t know. You haven’t told me anything. I want to say ‘probably not’ because-“ Leenik made a disbelieving noise.  
  
“Because,” Nemo repeated, “Romantic Love isn’t a one-way street. There has to be give and take. From what I’ve seen of Tryst, he’ll kiss anyone if it gets him out of trouble, or into it, and a one-sided crush isn’t the kind of thing you build a relationship on.”  
  
Leenik’s groaning sigh fluttered the tips of his wig.  
  
“So it’s hopeless.”  
  
“I never said that.”  
  
“You basically did, don’t even lie. How’d you know I have a crush anyway? Which I’m not admitting, by the way..”  
  
“Look, I’m telling you I don’t know if True Love exists. It’s a nice idea, but reality is messier. I know about your crush because you make puppy eyes at his back when he does anything cool, you’re way more eager to do his makeup than anyone else’s, and you get this half-murderous, half-heartbroken look whenever he mentions he did anything romantic to anyone else. Wich is all the time, so it’s really obvious.”  
  
Leenik continued to lay on the table, shoulders hunching up defensively with every word. Nemo sighed, staring at the back of his head.  
  
“The thing is, Leenik, I don’t know much of anything about Tryst. He’s free with physical affection, lies like he breathes, and I’ve never heard him get emotional over anyone but his sisters. You, at least, work within romance novel tropes. Tryst reads as an action-adventure, and you know I’m terrible at those.”  
  
“That’s not true. Kamino Kung Fu was good.”  
  
“It was, and is, my worst-rated book.”  
  
“Yeah, I know.”  
  
“The point is, we both have no idea what’s going on in Tryst’s head. If you want to know if your whole…” he gestured to all of him as Leenik pulled himself to a sitting upright position again, “thing, is going to be received well, you gotta talk to him. What do you even want from him?”  
  
Leenik’s fingers combed through his wig, carefully straightening the strands and brushing aside the bangs with a gusting sigh.  
  
“I dunno, I just… I want him to acknowledge that we kissed, or something, maybe? Like, actually treat it like it was something special, and not like…” His eyes stayed pinned to the table, fingers still combing through perfectly straight hair.  
  
A silence stretched between them for a long moment.  
  
“Back then… at BHIKKE week, was that your first kiss?”  
  
“OH-Kay, time to get back to work! Thanks for the talk, goodbye!” Leenik stood abruptly, fleeing out the kitchen door before Nemo could say anything else. The author sat for a moment, sipping the last of his herbal tea, and then turned back to his holopad with a small hum.  
  
Leenik’s drink sat cooling, forgotten on the table.  
  
  
  
—-  
  
  
  
The following week was torture.  
  
Not literal losing a hand scream-through-it torture, but the slow, agonizing tension of avoiding eye contact and trying to sneak glances and both avoiding someone like the plague while the rest of you wanted to just flop over someone else’s body to soak them in. Just absorb them like a sponge.  
  
Tryst seemed oblivious. Of course he was.  
  
Leenik caught himself staring, caught himself leaning in with his posture, caught himself focusing on Tryst above all others, and it was so frustrating to glance at Nemo and see that knowing, expectant look in his eye.  
  
A silent have you talked, yet?  
  
So, after they sold their meager collection of minor artifacts from the temple, back in hyperspace for a bounce to another planet to stay ahead of the Empire’s tracking, Leenik decided to make his move.   
  
It was fairly late by the ship’s clock, everyone tucked away in their own sleeping areas. Tamlin was in his room talking to the remaining lizards, and Tony was already sprawled across Leenik’s bed, hogging most of the blankets. That was fine, though. He wouldn’t need those for a while.

Bounty hunting gear still on- he’d been too anxious about what was coming to actually change out of it. It, at least, offered a small amount of protection - the emotional kind. Safety armor. 

He was… going to have a talk.

 

  
 _You can do this. Don’t give up now! Be brave!_  
  
The note scribbled in his journal did nothing to actually bolster his bravery, no matter how many stars and hearts he doodled around it. Still, he’d made up his mind.  
  
The trip between his own room and Tryst’s was very short, but nonetheless made his heart pound, every step slogging with the urge to duck out.  
  
Here must have stood in front of the door for several minutes, hardly breathing with his antennae pinned back in defensive distress, eyes boring into the metal. Finally, finally, he lifted his hand and knocked.  
S“Who is it?”  
  
“It-It’s Leenik!”  
  
“Oh! Perfect come in!”  
  
Leenik opened the door, stepping in and quickly spotting Tryst over at his mirror, head tilted sideways and pencil liner poised delicately at the corner of his eye. A pale blue kimono with pink flowers draped loosely over his thighs, neckline plunging. He lowered his hand, turning his head to look at himself, thhen turned to Leenik.  
  
“Okay, how did you get my eyeliner looking like that, at BHIKKE? Like, all smooth and pure black.”  
  
Oh thank goodness, an easy topic.  
  
“You gotta use liquid liner,” he started, “with a brush tip, not a hard one. That way it’s like painting and you can make really smooth lines that follow the contour of your face. I have some in my room if you want.” Tryst shook his head reaching for a wipe to take off the liner he’d already applied.  
  
“Nah, maybe tomorrow. Headed to bed soon and it’d just become really bad smoky eyes.” Checking to see that he’d gotten it all, Tryst met Leenik’s gaze in the mirror, and Leenik quickly looked away.  
  
“You want something?”  
  
Put on the spot, all the words seemed to flee his brain, and he choked out a forced laugh, waving his hands and stepping back toward the door.  
  
“Ah, no, never mind. Just some weird dream you were in.  Glad to help, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
  
A hand caught his sleeve and Leenik stopped, looking anywhere but the man sitting in front of him.  
  
“Good dreams, I hope, if I’m in them.” Oh crud, he could already hear that smooth tone the Valentine siblings got when they were trying to charisma their way to get what they want.  
  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shown up on your doorstep this late, I should go-“  
  
“Leenik.” His voice dropped, no longer playful.  
  
“Yeah, ok, I wanted to talk, but it’s not a big deal. You can’t make it a big deal.”  
  
“Seriously, what’s going on. You’ve been acting weird for days, and you haven’t even gotten out of your mission gear. What do you know that has you so on edge?”  
  
Leenik shifted on his feet, casting his gaze wildly around the room.  
  
“Can we just not talk about it? You sound really intense and it’s freaking me out.”  
  
“Is it Ava? Or a bounty hunter on our tail? If you think it’s dangerous, we need to know about it. As your captain, I can’t let you-“ ahhh, wrong conclusion! Leenik waved his free hand no, and tugged on the hand holding him.  
  
“It’s just- IwannaKissYourFaceAnd its really distracting ok!”  
  
Tryst finally let go of  his sleeve, looking dumbstruck.  
  
“You… want to kiss me?”  
  
“And it’s distracting.” The petulant note wasn’t supposed to be in there.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Right, okay, so that’s that, and I’ll be leaving now.”  
  
“Leenik, come here.”  
  
It took a moment of flustered dallying before his feet finally carried him back toward Tryst’s chair, hesitating just out of arm’s reach when the man stood up to meet him. He was just a few inches shorter than Tryst, but that just meant he had a very good perspective to see exactly how low the loosely tied kimono would open. Aaaand eyes up.  
  
Tryst’s expression was amused, gold eyes for once focused entirely on him.  
  
“So what opened the voyer door, if you just wanted-“  
  
“it really did say that, you idiot! I didn’t make up the crazy lights and neither of us could move the door so how could I possibly-“  
  
His voice peetered off when he felt a hand run over his collarbone. Tryst tucked his fingers under a folded collar of his shirt, turning it to rights and apparently ignoring the colorful flush spreading over reptilian skin.  
  
“You don’t have to say yes, I just wanted to, yknow, get it out there in the open.” Leenik mumbled, feeling weird and useless with his arms just hanging by his side.  
  
“I guess my real question is; is this going to interfere with our missions? Most of the people I sleep with, I don’t plan on seeing again.”  
  
Leenik’s flush grew darker, thumbs looping into his pockets, then his hands, then he just folded his arms in front of his chest.  
  
“I never said anything about sleeping. I said talking.”  
  
Tryst just laughed, voice crooning low into that charismatic tone again.  
  
“Of course you didn’t. You said kissing, and talking, but one of those things is definitely an action, and you know I like action more than words, so...?”  
  
He was in his space again, one finger under Leenik’s chin, drawing his gaze back up.  
He seemed openly curious, giving plenty of time to move away as he leaned forward, lips barely brushing over Leenik’s.

 

“A little rude to come for a goodnight kiss when you’re armed like this.”

 

“I didn’t- you. I-“

 

Tryst was already peeling off the shock glove from Leenik’s flesh hand, a small grin tugging at his mouth under the dumbstruck expression.

One freed, Tryst pulled the hand up, leaning down to press a small kiss on the inside of his wrist.  
  
Leenik’s thoughts were stuck spinning somewhere between Is this real? And _ohmhygodohmygodohmygod_.  
  
And then he was being pulled forward, brain shrieking to a halt as warm lips met his firmly, actually slotting and sliding together in that brain-meltingly nice way.

  
He didn’t really complain when Tryst nudged him toward the bed, too busy sliding his fingers against silky fabric. A hand slid over his lower back, then up to the sword harness across his shoulders to remove the thin knife tucked under a flap of fabric, and unfasten the magnetic straps to remove some bulk.  
  
“I have a thigh holster.” Leenik mumbled, enjoying the dim haze of heat he could sense tucked up next to him. He inhaled a slow breath as fingers ghosted over his rear, sliding around to snnk the knife out of its pocket.  
  
“If I didn’t know any better, you planned this.”  
  
“Hm? No, I just don’t want to sit on it.”  
  
Tryst laughed, nudging him back a bit more until the back of Leenik’s knees hit his bunk, and he tripped backward to sit.  
  
Like a spell was broken, the fuzzy warm haze snapped into sharp clarity, and he realized what exactly appeared to be happening.  
  
“Wait, I don’t want to-“  
  
“No sleeping, I know-“  
  
“I mean I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, and-“  
  
“I promise to respect you in the morning.”  
  
Leenik’s reply was cut off with a kiss, and a whirlwind of thoughts blitzed through his head. Passages of Nemoidian Sparks novels about new loves and old loves and reunited friends realizing they loved each other. A running catalogue of everywhere Tryst was touching. Ribs, hips, chest, behind his shoulder. The rasp of facial hair against his scales, and the slide of silk under his fingertips as he tried to reciprocate. His knuckles brushed the warm skin of Tryst’s chest, and Leenik felt more than heard, the approving hum as lips and teeth found the side of his neck, and his own hands slid up to knead into blonde hair, fingertips tracing the shell of round ears.  
  
The pleased inhale when teeth brushed the shell of his own ear was honest, but- something wasn’t quite matching up. He was too aware of his own body, even as he followed Tryst laying back on the bed. Too aware that every gesture was a mixture of what a hundred romance novels said should happen, and his own affectionate curiosity. A desire for Tryst to feel nice, to snag his attention and feel that intensity on him and not just his body.  
  
He tried to shut it out - tried to let it happen, inviting arousal to take over. That’s what was supposed to happen, right? It was supposed to be a whirlwind of desire and instincts and intimacy in the space between breaths.  
  
His jacket zipper was drawn down, kisses dragged into the space revealed. Leenik felt his inhale shudder, and he could feel Tryst’s smug smile in the curve of the lips that captured his own once more.  
  
He made a small noise, a syllable drowning between kisses and the soft rustle of cloth.  
  
It was so much - touch and taste and smell -  
  
Leenik stiffened when he felt a palm sliding down his stomach, the release of pressure as his pants were unlatched, body weighing him down into the bed.  
  
The expected rush of arousal didn’t come.  
  
Instead, he just felt uncomfortable. This wasn’t what he’d wanted.  
  
“Tryst” he whispered, but the moment the man looked up, he’d lost his words again, and he fisted his hands into Tryst’s kimono, very aware at how loose it’d gotten, almost completely open.  
There was a lot of skin bared.

  
A shift, and kisses trailed down his chest, emotionally bright, and good, but laced with dread - he knew were this was going, and it couldn’t go there.  
  
“ **Veto** !”  
  
All at once, everything stopped.  
  
For a breath, Tryst knelt over him, wide-eyed and startled, watching him from around Leenik’s navel.  
  
Then, he sat upright, carefully backing away off the bed, folding his kimono tightly around himself and tying it in place, still watching Leenik like he was a bomb about to detonate.  
  
Even after Tryst left the room, Leenik laid silently on his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Why… what had gone wrong?  
  
Wasn’t that what he’d wanted?  
  
Every book about this sort of thing said things should have just clicked together, and he’d know what to do. He liked Tryst! He did! The first person in a long time he’d really actually Liked in a way that wasn’t just enjoying their presence. Actual heart-fluttery feelings.  
  
He’d gotten that kiss, still wanted things like that- the kissing, the closeness, but not… not whatever this mess was.  
  
Leenik zipped his coat back up, leaving his knives wherever Tryst had dropped them, swiping up his shock glove and hurrying back to his room.  
  
It wasn’t fair.  
  
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this


	3. Resolution

God, he’d made it worse. 

Tryst was avoiding him, and it was painfully obvious. 

The man’d talk less whenever he was in the room, avoiding eye contact and moving neatly around the cramped floor of the ship so they never brushed shoulders. The crew’s conversations danced in a weird way, Tryst constantly tweaking the way he phrased things so Leenik wasn’t the one who ought to answer - addressing crewmates directly, or calling for Kat to bring up a convoluted recipe for bombs and star systems instead of asking Leenik for help.

 

The smell of wine and whiskey that always hung faintly around the man’s room grew thicker, and the sinking feeling in Leenik’s gut had solidified into a lead weight, pulling down through his chest cavity and hollowing out somewhere a heart should be. The closed door of his cramped quarters felt like something final. A wall being built up to fence him out. 

He’d led the man on, let it get that far, backed out and spooked him at the last minute. Probably lost his trust. His respect. He’d tell Bacta, and Bacta would choose between the two of them, and-

He messed up so bad. 

It didn’t take long for the rest of the crew to pick up on it, and he found himself besieged by Tamlen, book after book being pressed into his hands to re-read, and he found himself going along with it, welcoming the distraction. The stories he once found an escape in quickly became grating. Drama and misunderstandings evolving into love and appreciation. Happy endings and marriages and sweet happily-ever-afters soaring into the stars. The weight in his gut blackened, crystallizing, and he swallowed it back and pushed it down and crushed it into a tiny little space until the hollow emptiness around it felt numbed, and he could read about joyful reunions and tearful intimacy without his throat catching. 

“Uncle Leenik, are you…. You don’t feel alright.” 

“No, I’m fine. You want to finish this story or not?” 

Tameln peeked up at him from where he had leeched to his side, careful to keep his little horns away from anywhere they could poke. Leenik could feel the doubtful stare even without looking down. 

“I mean it, I’m fine.”

“I don’t think it’s very nice to lie to your friends.” 

Leenik frowned back, snapping the book shut in his hand. 

“I don’t think it’s very nice to use the force to pry into your friends thoughts, either.” 

“I’m not prying, you’re just being really loud.”

He sighed, letting the book plop onto his stomach and dropping his head back against the wall they’d piled cushions up to read against. 

“Uncle Leenik?”

“....yeah?” 

“I know you said I shouldn’t pry, but…. You really do feel all kinds of not-good, y’know. Do you want to share anything? Bacta says sharing can help get the bad feelings out where you can see why they’re there.” 

Leenik took a slow breath, exhaled, let his shoulders relax. Let the familiar emptiness of a twisted sort of grief creep up and in and around, settling like a carapace around his injured heart. 

_ Tony _ . 

It was fine.Everything was fine. The brittle shell hardened, and he stuffed his stupid emotions back where they belonged.

“I’m fine.” He said aloud, and the alarmed look on Tamlen’s face didn’t spark concern so much as an absent note that it had occurred. “Why don’t you go ask Uncle Bacta if he saved any pisteakcio ice cream for you?” 

The little zabrak didn’t seem terribly interested in the offer, but stood up regardless, edging away for a few steps before scampering out from Leenik’s bedroom. 

Leenik sighed, laying down and sprawling his limbs out across the floor. This was an overreaction, surely. He should just apologize and get it over with. Then they could go back to being normal crew members, or whatever they’d been before this whole disaster. 

Absent fingers found his holo pad, tapping around through lists of criminals as he tried to take his mind off the present. He should go find another bounty. Get himself captured. They were always low on credits, anyway. Always some new problem popping up, or a big repair, or-

His prosthetic hand clicked metal to metal as he sat upright, and Leenik drummed the cold fingertips against the floor for a long moment. Remembering a shock glove, and the hand inside it sliding away, unreachable. The hum of a lightsaber, and- 

He tapped his fingers again, listening to the click-click-click-click. Listening to voices murmuring on the other side of a wall, in a ship built for far fewer than the group who occupied it. The cramped quarters normally didn’t bother him, but the awareness of the crew around him - Neemo, Lyn and Tryst talking in the kitchen, Bacta up by the cockpit, examining star maps, Tamlen reorganizing his lizards in a cargo hold not meant for a collection of young trees, playing keep-away with a curious Vornskier. His room felt too small, tight over his head in a way that weighed on him. 

He needed out. 

Resolved, Leenik slipped into his mission gear with a quick burst of energy. Vibro-sword on his back, shock gloves charged, a light blaster on his hip, and a few knives for ‘just in case’ stowed under hideaway straps and secret pockets.

He breezed past Tamlen, ignoring the worried glance, slouching into the cockpit to lean against the back of the captain’s chair. 

“So, what’s the nearest planet?” 

Bacta startled minutely, looking up a fraction faster than would have been normal for him. 

“Oh, uh- we’re pretty close to Concord Dawn. Did you need something?” 

Leenik remained casual, tapping an absent rhythm.

“Just feeling a bit claustrophobic. I wanna take a trip down to the surface - just get some sky over my head, y’know? Spread out a little.”

Bacta hummed, flicking his fingers through the star map to zoom in on their current position. 

“What did the others say? We should figure out a plan before just dropping down into atmo.” 

“Ugh,” Leenik draped himself over the back of the chair. “No, no, don’t bother. Whatever. I don’t- Don’t need it anyway.” 

“But you’re already dressed up for landing.” 

“Whatever! Forget it!” 

Leenik was already stalking back to his room, the tight quarters crawling anxious and ugly under his scales. 

 

His antennae perked up, angling in a quick twitch toward the kitchen door as he heard something that sounded like his name. 

Someone was talking about him.

Leenik moved carefully, scooting over and peeking out from his door, down the short hallway to their kitchen. The side of Tamlen’s head was visible from the open frame, and it was Tryst’s voice that answered. 

“Uncle Leenik is probably angry with me right now, and it’s probably good that he is, because Uncle Tryst was being a dummy and thinking with his- well, not his head, that’s for sure.” 

“Thinking with your other head?” 

“....where did you learn that language?” 

“Uncle Leenik reads Nemo’s stories to me when I have a hard time sleeping. And sometimes just for fun. I like them! But, those stories say a lot that you should talk to someone when you have a problem. Or, if you know what your problem is, you should apologize if it’s your fault.”

“I don’t know if he’ll forgive me, buddy.” 

“Well, that’s the point of apologies, isn’t it? Plus...” Tamlen’s voice lowered to nearly a whisper, and Leenik had to strain to make out the words. “-doesn’t feel right. Even with the lizards, the Force feels weird around him now.” 

“That doesn’t sound good.” 

“Right? But I don’t know what to do. He keeps not answering me when I ask about how he feels.”

“To be fair, asking someone how they feel is probably the fastest way to get them to lie to you.”

“That’s not true.”

“Mm, kinda is.”

Tamlin grumbled disagreement, and Leenik heard the clink of glass meeting glass, and the splash of liquid pouring. 

Leenik slunk back into his room, leaning against the inside of the door with a slow sigh. His blaster dug into his hip, and he let the harness fall to the floor with a disappointing thud. 

 

\----

 

The next morning, he got up early - too restless to fall asleep, Leenik had passed the time taking apart a few of the trinkets they’d salvaged in past missions. He was always impressed by the sensitivity of his false hand, though the unfamiliar sensation of movement and pain always niggled as just slightly  _ off _ . 

So, it was with anxious motions he paced the small space of his room, before making his mind up that he’d just go eat something instead of angsting until proper morning. 

 

If course, the moment he stepped out, he noticed soft tones cascading in elegant patterns - noise he’d mistaken for the sounds the ship made naturally, but no longer muffled by his door, he recognized it as a piano being played. 

His feet stopped him, antennae pressing back with frustration, but something else halted the reflexive retreat. 

_   Leenik is probably angry with me right now, and it’s probably good that he is. _

 

He’d been so wrapped up in his own head - guilt and frustration and dread, he hadn’t really stopped to think about what it might have looked like from Tryst’s point of view. That night was so crisp in some parts, fuzzed over in others. He did remember the man’s face. That… expression, he’d been convinced Tryst was upset at him.

What if… he’d thought it was his own fault? 

 

The journey into the kitchen took more resolve than he thought it’d take. 

 

—

 

“Tryst.” 

“Hm?”

Leenik stood awkwardly behind him, watching the human tap quick tumbling melodies on their piano’s keys.

He must have taken too long to continue, because the notes petered off, and Tryst was clearly watching him from the corners of his eyes, half-hidden behind blonde hair. 

Leenik floundered for words, eyes darting from the piano’s pale keys up to the ceiling, over to an array of rooster-themed decor, and to Tony lounging warm and relaxed on one of the benches. 

“I…. I dare you to kiss me again.”

Tryst looked up properly for just a moment in a startled twitch, before turning back to his piano, starting a softer, simpler song. 

“You can’t do that, there’s no neutral party to second the dare.”

“Tony seconds the dare.” 

Hearing his name, aforementioned vornskeir whuffed something sleepy before rolling over with a whining groan to go back to sleep. 

“Is that what that was?” 

“Yes. Is that your question?” 

“What? No, of course not.” Tryst stopped playing again. Swiveling in his chat to face Leenik properly. “There’s no neutral third party to ask me if I have any clarifying questions. That’s part of the rules, Leenik, you can’t just dare people out of the blue without any backup.” 

Leenik folded his arms, squinting harder at him. 

“Tony wants to know if you have any clarifying questions.” 

“Alright, yes, I do. I thought you veto’d this. Why are you bringing it up again?” 

“I veto’d you-” He stopped, the words tangling in his mouth. He had to say this properly. 

“I stopped you because I don’t like doing… that. With my- Like, I’m ok with yours or whatever, but I don’t want to be-”

Tryst frowned, squinting at him with a weird face. 

“You know!” Leen said again, one hand waving in a jerky motion. 

“You don’t want your junk to be touched.”

“You can’t ask two questions!”

“That wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Are you going to respond to it?” 

“Ah! Question!”

“Fuck! Shit, I mean ‘Kriff!,’ whatever.” 

“But, yeah, that about covers it. Your question, I mean, about my- yes.” Leenik stepped into the room a bit further, edging closer to Tryst. The man bounced his leg a little, eyes intent and watchful.

“Right. So… Twist.” 

“You have to keep your eyes closed,” Leenik quickly added, already feeling his pulse pick up, thundering tight under his skin. 

“Alright.” 

“Tony wants to know if you have an additional question about the twist.” 

The corner of Tryst’s mouth quirked up for a moment, but he obligingly closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. 

“Can I touch you, while we kiss?” 

“Oh, um...I… Not… not this time.”

“This time.”

“That was a statement, so I’m not answering it.” 

That was definitely a smile, and Leenik edged further closer, emboldened once Tryst wasn’t staring him down. 

“Alright, quits. I accept the dare.” 

“You don’t have any mitzes?”

“Nope.” 

“Alright.” 

Tryst exhaled a slow breath, waiting with his eyes gently shut as Leenik edged up next to the piano bench, tentatively testing their combined weight on it. He reached up to brush a strand of hair out of Tryst’s face, and watched the man tilt his face to follow the small touch of movement. 

Fingertips gingerly cupping Tryst’s jaw, Leenik swallowed past his pounding heart, drinking in the sight of his pilot leaving himself so vulnerable. He could see the flutter of a pulse through delicate skin.  

Still. A dare was a dare. He couldn’t draw it out too long, or extra rules would come into play. 

Leenik leaned in just a hair, letting his eyes slide shut, breath held in anticipation.

“Shit!” 

Leenik yelped as Tryst’s eyes popped open, rearing back as the man sat up and looked wildly around. 

“We almost forgot the dare hoods! And the candle!” 

Leenik shrieked a strangled note of frustration, fisting one hand in Tryst’s kimono collar, dragging the man up into a liplock before he could protest further. 

There wasn’t even a note of hesitation as Tryst slid his hands over Leenik’s arms, obligingly wiggling back as the Rhodian pressed forward to kneel on the piano bench. No protest about a dare when Leenik cradled his jaw to hold him in place, eyes still obediently closed and each kiss half-broken by the man’s grin. 

“Seriously though, we need the candle, or this doesn’t count as a dare, and I’m not going to let this hang until we start bringing censures into this.”

Leenik groaned, at the insistence, giving one last brush of a kiss.

“...Fine. I have candles in my room.” 

Gold eyes finally opened. 

“What, seriously? For what?” 

“Sometimes reading by candlelight is romantic.” Tryst blinked, eyes darting back and forth between Leenik’s, throat moving in a tight swallow.

“Alright, I guess we’re headed to your room. Unless you want to bring one out here?” 

Leenik glanced toward the bay door, certain he didn’t trust the others not to burst in at the worst possible time. 

“My room sounds good.” 

“Lead the way.” 

The early morning stumble was a bit less awkward and a bit more fumbling, tiny glances shared and little brushes of hans against arms, every excuse to touch the other used so long as the pretense of ‘not doing it on purpose’ could be held with the thinnest of veneers. 

 

Leenik breathed a sigh of relief as his door closed behind them, and their lips met again. Less the eager hunger he remembered, and more a soft and persistent sort of kiss. Cautious, yes, and questioning, with hands tugging in soft hints and requests for movement instead of demanding. 

 

“Candle.” Tryst whispered, and Leenik fumbled for the contraband candles, lighting and carefully setting open flames well to the side and safe from accidental bumps. 

“I’m not going to pull out a hood.” 

Tryst chuffed a soft little laugh obligingly closing his eyes once more before offering the gentle sort of kisses that Leenik just drank up. 

 

Somewhere along the line, the two of them ended up on Leenik’s bed, clothes rumpling as they continued to exchange kisses, bodies creeping ever-closer. Tryst kept pulling his hands back, mindful of the caveat ‘Not allowed to touch,’ and making soft noises in the back of his throat when Leenik didn’t obey the same rules, fingers pulling smoothly through feathery blonde hair, trailing the sides of his neck in a mixture of cool metal and scales. 

 

The cold, hard dread in his chest slowly loosened, melting with the shared breaths and moments he stole to just stare at the man’s face, thumb tracing over lips to watch the blind chase. Cracks crept slowly across the shell of fear, brittle layers softening to let that soft glow of affection worm its way out again. 

 

The kisses eventually peeter out, leaving behind relaxed breaths shared, and an absent huff to blow out the last candle. 

 

Left in darkness, with the faint cherry glow of a wick quickly losing its light, Leenik felt more than saw, Tryst shuffle back down next to him, throwing one arm over his stomach, another leg over his own. It was easy to just sink back into the bed, head turned to tuck under a bristly chin and antennae basking in the familiar smell of his teammate. 

Tryst’s voice vibrated through both their chests. 

“So. Dare is wrapped up. Punishment time.” 

Leenik froze. He’d forgotten about that. 

“Not… not drudgery?” 

“Nope. It was my dare, I pick the retaliation. I’m picking punishment. My punishment to you, is to answer 3 questions fully, and honestly. I know that’s embarrassing, punishments are supposed to be.”

Tryst propped himself on one elbow, only barely visible despite the closeness. Leenik left himself limp, already missing the body heat that curled around his head a moment ago. 

“...Alright.” 

“Why is sex such a complicated issue for you?” 

Leenik could feel every touch between them electric, could feel tryst’s fingers tracing small figures against the curve of his ribs. 

“I- I don’t… I read about it. I mean-” His hand found Tryst’s, and the sign-drawing fingers moved to spread out between his own, letting him play with the human’s digits in the dark as he fumbled through trying to explain. 

“I read about love, and romance, all the time. I really like that stuff. I like the idea of… being wanted, and having someone decide they want to keep wanting you forever. Choose you, over everything. I-” 

When his voice trailed off, Tryst made a soft sound, curious, encouraging. He didn’t pull away, and Leenik tried to keep his voice from trembling with the tight feeling in his chest and throat. 

“I don’t…. Sex isn’t something I ever  _ want _ . Like, I want to be with… someone, but the instincts and stuff that are supposed to come up just don’t happen. Not like the books say they should” 

 

Leenik felt his jaw working as he tried to find a more succinct way of explaining, but Tryst already was squeezing his fingers, voice still level. 

“Alright, that’s a good answer. Next question. Two outta three.”

“Mkay.” Force, he was already dreading the finale. He was vaguely aware of his shouders and hands shaking from adrenaline, terrified that being truthful would push Tryst away. 

“If you don’t like having sex, why’d you let me do what I did, that time? Why’d you let me get that far?”

“It was fine until you put your hand in my pants!” Leenik bit back the shrill crack of his voice, gulping down what should have been a calming breath. “It was fine until then. I like being touched in general, I just don’t want my junk to get touched. I don’t want someone else expecting me to get… aroused and excited. I don’t  _ want _ to feel like that. As long as that expectation isn’t there, that  _ intent _ isn’t there, a lot of stuff is fine.  _ This _ is fine! More than fine. I really…. I really liked this, tonight. Or, this morning.” 

Tryst waited a moment, and the silence stretched between them. Leenik felt a warm exhale of air, and made a small noise as the man’s arm tightened around him into a hug before relaxing. 

“I’m so glad.” Tryst’s voice whispered into the back of his neck, forehead nudging into him. 

“I’m glad I wasn’t forcing you. That it wasn’t because you were scared to say something.” 

“If you tried to do that, I’d kick your ass.” Tryst huffed a quiet laugh, the noise fading into a hum of agreement, and the hug tightened for a moment once more. 

“Of course you would, you big scary bounty hunter.”

Leenik rolled over, blinking through the gloom to see Tryst’s face up close and personal, still greywashed by lack of light. His eyes still picked up the heat of the room around them, thermal hazes of body heat and the still-hot trail of candle smoke.

“What’s your third question?” 

Tryst watched him, the silence stretching on between them. A hand snuck up, cupping the sharp curve of Leenik’s cheek, a thumb pressing ever-so-gently to the corner of his eye. He blinked, nictitating membrane sweeping red and multifaceted over his eyes before retreating again to let the refractive crystals in his eyes pick up the thermal signature around him. 

Tryst stroked down his cheek, followed the curve of his jaw, before his hand fell back to slide down Leenik’s arm. 

“Can I sleep here?”

The ‘yes’ was on the top of his tongue, but Leenik paused. Dare rules were still in effect. 

“Tonight, or every night?” He must have guessed correctly, because Tryst’s face broke out into a sunny grin. 

“Just tonight.”

“Yeah, Alright. That’s okay.” 

“Unless you wanted to invite-” 

“Nope!” Leenik shook his head, well aware of how difficult it was to get Tryst to actually obey private spaces in the first place. “Not every night. Just tonight.” 

“Ruin my fun, why don’t you.” 

Leenik pecked forward, stealing a kiss from the corner of his mouth. Tryst just looked amused. Somehow the two of them managed to curl together again, Leenik’s back against Tryst’s front, woven together under blankets as comforting sleepiness crept in on them.  

“Goodnight, Tryst.”

“G’night, sweetheart.” 

Any Rhoadian worth his salt would have been able to see the sharp spike in heat spreading up Leenik’s cheeks, and the rapid change in color from emerald green to bruised blushing purple. 

And so, the two of them slept. 


End file.
